Of Wolf And Man
by miniroll
Summary: After Sirius' death, Harry spirals into a consuming depression and is seemingly abandoned by his friends and Dumbledore. He is at the mercy of the Dursleys' increasingly abusive hands. One evening, when Harry finally has a chance at an evening of peace, everything that could go wrong, does. On the orders of Voldemort, he is bitten by a werewolf. Severitus. Slash. HP/DM
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I could only wish that I had created such amazing characters and story!

**Themes: **Severitus; Slash (i.e homosexual relations - if it is not your cup of tea, leave now. Do not complain; if you do not like it and complain to me about it, I will not care for it); HP/DM. It is rated M for a reason! There will be generous amounts of bad language, violence, gore and sexy scenes!

**A/N: **This is my first attempt at writing a fanfiction in YEARS. I stopped reading fanfictions when I was about 15/16, and I am now 20. I had begun writing a couple of my own during my teens, but they were awful stories with no plot, and no end planned, and they were mostly inspired by childish fantasies. A bit like Twilight, really.

Recently, through boredom, I started reading (more like ploughing through!) Harry Potter fanfictions, and am obsessed all over again. I have been reading too many, too quick however, and now I find myself bored by the stories I find. This, together with the fact that I have recently decided to write my own original novel, has me writing this story about an idea that came to me only yesterday. I have literally just shot out this chapter in the last couple of hours. I've never written so much, so quick, in one go. I wish that I could write essays this passionately!

Slight warning, I have not planned out this story very far, and I am currently just going with the flow; I have not decided which books I will follow, I may or may not include the Horcruxes - at this point, I have not decided very much as I just wanted to get this first chapter out. Rest assured, I have every intention of completing this story as part of the reason I am writing it is to force myself to finish something, by writing something I am actually interested in!

Anyway, on with the story!

_P.S If anyone is interested, the title "Of Wolf And Man" is borrowed from an excellent song by Metallica, of the same name._

**1: Blood On The Moon**

It was approaching evening, and a blood-coloured full moon was rising. Harry was swinging gently on a rusty swing in the park near the Dursleys. 'The moon looks red today,' he thought vacantly, noticing but not truly paying attention. His dropped his gaze to the ground, and closed his eyes.

He vaguely heard a low howl in the distance.

Light drops of cold rain started to come from the sky, a chilled drop landing on the nape of his neck, which caused a chill to shudder through his body.

It was quite chilly out, despite it being July, but he was not in the mood to care, and especially not in the mood to return to the awful Dursleys.

It had been a month since the horrific, eye-opening battle at the Department of Mysteries, and _his_ death.

'Sirius.'

Harry felt his chest contract painfully at the mere thought of his Godfather's name. He raised his head slowly, eyes unseeing, and breathed out deeply to calm himself.

A squirrel who had been wandering among a large pile of leaves, near to a forest that began at the back of the park, suddenly sat up to attention. Harry's eyes focused at the movement, and he stared, watching quietly.

He heard a small rustle in some bushes nearest to the small, obviously young squirrel. The squirrel, suddenly understanding it was in danger, made to flee.

It understood too late.

In a matter of seconds, a large paw, covered in grey fur, with long, sharp claws had batted the squirrel to the ground, effectively trapping it as the squirrel made an awful, high-pitched cry of something that knew it was about to die, and did not want to. It sounded almost human.

The leaves rustled as the poor, young squirrel fought for its life. Its cry made Harry internally cringe as the noise assaulted his ear drums. He almost wanted to get up and help scare the attacker away, but instead he sat and watched nature's violence unfold in front of him, indifferent.

'All living things die,' he thought, coldly.

The unidentified furry grey paw retreated, dragging its prize into the bushes. Harry could see red blood glistening in its fur. The darkening, cloudy sky started to release rain a little harder.

It had looked almost exactly like one of Padfoot's paws. Harry slammed the thought away before it could overwhelm him. Instead, he focused on trying to figure out what it was, as it had indeed been a strange animal, considering where he currently was.

'Almost wolf-like,' he thought, but since when were there wolves in Surrey? It had been a strange shape too, longer than what Harry thought wolves legs, or even dogs legs generally looked like.

He sat up a little, slowly snapping out of his depressed, pensive mood. Alarm bells were quietly ringing in his head.

All of a sudden, a flash of light illuminated the evening sky, and Harry's surroundings. A slow rumbling noise followed shortly.

Harry's heart pounded, surprised by the thunder. "Damn it!" he exclaimed, as it began to rain harder. The sudden bad weather threw the wariness caused by the strange animal out of his mind.

He grimaced, not wanting to stay out in the cold, but even more reluctant to return the Dursley residence, wanting his freedom in the outdoors to last longer. He stayed sitting on the swing. Slowly, his clothes and hair started to dampen, and he began to tremble with the cold.

Ever since he had returned, he had been in a destructive mood. His emotions seemed to have flowed through the air, to affect the Dursleys' moods in a similar way. Aunt Petunia was more demanding with the chores, Dudley was more vicious with his pranks and bullying, and Vernon... Vernon had been even worse than the other two combined.

Harry cringed in thought at some of the punishments he'd had to endure this summer. He even had a few bruises from moments when Vernon had been seriously angered, and had resorted to physical violence. Unfortunately for Harry, Vernon's angry moods were increasing with each passing day that Harry was left at number four.

And why? Because Dumbledore, with all his aged wisdom and misplaced trust in his Muggle relatives and knowledge of what was apparently "best" for Harry, had sent a letter prior to Harry's arrival, informing them of his Godfather's death.

It explained that Harry would most likely be in mourning, and in "strange and angered moods for the summer" and to "please allow the boy some space and understanding."

'Ha!' Harry thought. He had definitely got some space and understanding... understanding from Vernon's fist, and space in the form of being locked in his room when he was not doing his chores, or generally catering to the Dursleys' every need, like a human house-elf.

Apparently now that Sirius was dead, they need not have fear of retribution for not treating the Boy-Who-Lived with any kind of decency.

The Order turned out to be a useless threat too. After Vernon had exploded in anger after a bad day at work and had accidentally hit Harry for the first time, no enraged wizards in purple hats had descended upon the Dursleys intending on raining Hell's fire on them. No one had shown up that day, or the day after, or the week after.

They had realised that no one was looking out for him. Harry had never felt so betrayed, or alone.

Today, Harry had been lucky enough to learn that he was having the house to himself for the evening as Petunia and Vernon had gone out to attend a work party for the night, not intending to be back until early morning. Dudley had been left to sleepover at one of his cronies' houses.

He felt lucky enough, until Vernon told him he was still to be locked into his room for the entire evening. This was the usual practice, however Harry had felt enraged, seeing as the house would be empty that evening, and the Dursleys had no need to lock him away to avoid him.

Harry was not able to avoid being locked up though, and even if Vernon had not locked up all his things, he was still under-age and could not use magic to help him. Harry had sat on his bed for a while after his relatives had left, silently boiling in rage, wishing fervently that he could use his magic and leave the Dursleys for good, despite the protective wards around the family.

He had realised that he would rather duel an armed Voldemort with only his fists, rather than be stuck with the Dursleys for the rest of the summer, and the next summer.

A while after the Dursleys had left, he had risen from his bed, in a severely bad mood, and went to open the door, hoping, if whatever Gods existed, that they would smile down on him today, and somehow Vernon would have forgotten to lock his door.

He had turned the handle, only to find that Vernon had not forgotten, and that the Gods did not want to help him.

"FUCK YOU" he had screamed, suddenly consumed by the same rage he had felt in Dumbledore's office at the end of the school year, if a bit stronger. He had felt all his negative feelings rise to the top, from the betrayal he felt that neither Dumbledore, nor the Order, nor even his close friends had contacted him since his return to Surrey, to the homicidal rage he felt toward Bellatrix LeStrange, for ridding him of the Godfather he had barely known, and had loved anyway.

He had attacked the door as his emotions cascaded over him, punching and kicking with all his might.

"FUCK YOU," he repeated, "JUST FUCKING OPEN. WHY WON'T YOU OPEN. I FUCKING HATE YOU. JUST DIE, WHY DON'T YOU."

He had continued in this manner until his emotions completely overwhelmed him, and he had broken down against the door in harsh sobs; in pain, physically and emotionally.

In his state, he had almost missed hearing the click of the lock opening, but his ears just caught it.

He had almost stopped breathing; 'Could it be...?' he had thought, refusing to let his hope rise too much.

He had hesitantly stood up to turn the door handle. To his utter surprise and amazement and happiness, the door had opened.

Not understanding what had happened, he took a step warily. Was it some kind of wandless magic induced by his emotions suddenly overflowing like they did, or was it something much more sinister? After quietly and slowly exploring the house for any sign of intruders, or intrusion, Harry had decided that it was the prior. He had beamed in happiness, standing in the middle of the living room, suddenly ecstatic that his magic had helped him.

After releasing Hedwig from her confines of her cage in Harry's room, he told her to fly to the Burrow and stay there until he was able to go get her. She flew off, not before hooting at him sadly and lovingly rubbing her head against his cheek. Harry watched her go sadly.

Since returning from Hogwarts, she had only been allowed out at night. It had been daily at the beginning of the summer, but Vernon had been slowly "forgetting" about Harry's beloved owl, and she had started to waste away from the lack of exercise and hunting for food, when Vernon's convenient bad memory had had her locked in her cage for two or three days at a time. Harry had tried to sneak her food , but it had not been enough, and he could not steal any more for fear of being noticed. He knew Vernon would simply kill her if he had noticed the missing food.

When Harry had set her free, she had been skinny, and her usually soft feathers were rough, and few and far between. He hoped that his surrogate family, if he could call them that anymore, would look after her. After the lack of contact, he did not hold much hope for them to realise, or care enough, that her state meant that he was in trouble.

Harry rose from his thoughts as the rain pounded even harder, now close to being torrential. He sighed in defeat, and stood up from the swing. He stretched, his body aching from being in one position for so long. 'I suppose I should head back before I get ill,' Harry thought. It would not do to catch the flu while Vernon had become so abusive. Harry shuddered at the thought of the pain he would be in, should it happen.

Although pain had become a common occurrence for Harry, it did not get any easier to experience.

He made to leave the park, and as he crossed the threshold to the gates, he thought he heard voices carried in the wind.

He opened the gate slowly, looking around. There was no one in sight, although the rain pouring down onto Harry and his glasses blurred his vision more than he would like. The gate closed itself behind him as he began to walk quickly towards the Dursley residence. A bad feeling was growing inside his chest, and he felt like he was being watched.

His mind remembered for a second the strange wolf-like paw from earlier that had attacked the squirrel, and he quickened his pace, eyes open and mind alert.

He reached the road that he needed to follow to the house, and began to walk down it. He heard laughing coming from the direction in, and slowed his walk.

'Don't be silly, Potter. Other people live here too you know,' he thought to himself, and carried on walking. Still, he was feeling apprehensive, and for a second he felt like he had recognised the laugh.

The talking and laughing got louder all of a sudden, and he stopped cold. A group of rowdy boys had appeared from the turn in the road on the opposite road.

It was Dudley and his gang.

'Shit,' Harry thought. He stood, frozen in fear of being discovered. There were no parked cars or trees to hide behind, and within seconds Dudley had inevitably noticed him.

Dudley stopped abruptly, causing some of his friends to walk into him. "What the hell, man!" Harry barely heard them complaining at Dudley's actions over the rain and wind. Dudley stood, stock still, in the middle of about five other boys. They were all pretty beefy, and could easily beat Harry into a pulp if they caught him.

Dudley shook himself out of his shock of seeing Harry out of the house, "OI, POTTY!" he yelled across the road, a menacing grin suddenly spreading out on his face, as well as his friends' faces when they realised who was across the street from them.

"You're not supposed to be out of the house," he said, gleefully, "wait till mum and dad hear about this!" His friends, who were sniggering spitefully at Harry, suddenly raised eyebrows and looked at Dudley strangely. Dudley looked around him, fat face coloured in red embarrassment.

He knew he should not taunt Dudley, but he could not help himself. He raised an eyebrow, mockingly.

"Aw, am I too much to handle by yourself, Ickle Diddykins? Are you going to run to mummy and daddy forever? Aren't you almost sixteen years old, Diddykins?" he called loudly to be heard over the pouring rain.

Harry did not think that Dudley's face could get anymore purple, or his veins anymore protuding. "YOU FUCKING FAGGOT," he suddenly yelled, stepping on to the curb of the road. His friends advanced with him, all fists clenched.

Harry backed away slowly, "Careful, Diddykins, you've gotten so fat lately, I wouldn't want you to have to run after me, your tits might fall off."

Even from across the road, Harry could see Dudley trembling in rage. "GET HIM!" he screamed out to his friends, as he attempted to run to a quickly retreating Harry. His friends were not as fat, and could probably run quite fast.

He broke into a sprint, heading back towards the park, intent on reaching the forest. If he was caught by the burly lackeys of Dudley's gang, there was no uncertainty that he would be beaten to shit. Even worse, Dudley would tell Vernon, and the shit would not only hit the fan, but everything behind it too.

Harry almost regretted teasing Dudley, but it had felt so good to see Dudley's rage and shame. It had also been quite funny to see Dudley's wobbly bits struggling to stay in place as he had tried to run to Harry. Despite Harry's predicament, he grinned as he ran.

"Get back here, you little shit!"

"Wait 'til we get our hands on you!"

"Little Potty!"

He heard the calls and insults thrown at him from Dudley's mates. He risked a quick look behind, and saw, worryingly, that they were catching up to him, each with a sinister glint in their eyes. He put his head down, and pushed himself to run faster.

He jumped over the gate to the park.

Had he just returned from Hogwarts, after months of excellent, nutritious food, he could have outran them with ease. However, since being at the Dursleys', food had become a rarity, and it was affecting him badly.

He ran past the swing set he had been sitting on earlier, and the slides. The forest was so close now, if he could get into it, he could lose them in the darkness that now covered the forest. He knew the forest was quite deep, having been inside it a few times in the past years, always to get away from Dudley. He was quite confident of his ability to navigate it by now, but he doubted they would run into the forest, not wanting to get lost. They would probably wait around for a while, doubting that Harry knew any other exits.

Harry was reluctant to admit that they were right, but it did not matter now. Dudley had seen him out of the house. Vernon would most likely beat him to an inch within his life if he went back to the house. Even if he managed to avoid Dudley and lock himself in his room again, leaving behind no evidence, Vernon would believe Dudley for sure, if he said Harry had gotten out.

It was time to leave the Dursleys permanently, Harry knew.

It was going to be bloody difficult, considering that he did not have his wand, and could not perform magic without the Ministry knowing anyway. He had a year left 'til he could perform magic outside Hogwarts legally, and on top of that, there was Voldemort.

Harry slowed to a jog after a few minutes of running around the areas he knew inside the forest. He could barely recognise them in the dark, and the rain was making seeing extra difficult, he felt lost at several points, but refused to panic.

He finally stopped jogging at the sight of a familiar tree. It marked a safe area, and beyond it was were Harry had not explored. The forest got a lot thicker and scarier past this point. It was easy to climb for him, and he could climb high enough that he would be out of harms way if the boys had managed to follow him. He clambered up with ease, although he was out of breath, and stopped halfway up the huge tree. He lay with his back against a branch, and tried to catch his breath.

Now that he was not running, and could hear past his own breathing, he heard angered calls and loud taunting aimed at him. He had lost them, but they were staying put at the edge of the forest, as predicted.

Harry sat, and patiently waited for them to leave, as he started to think about his predicament.

Where could he go? Was there anyone he could go to? All of his friends, Dumbledore, and the Order, for all appearances, had essentially abandoned him. He knew if he went to any of his friends, even if he asked them not to tell Dumbledore, they would anyway; the Headmaster would come for him and put him back with the Dursleys.

He would not go back to the Dursleys, ever. Even if he had to contend with Dumbledore, he absolutely refused to be put back into their abusive hands.

Harry sat for a while, mulling over his options. As cold as it was, and as soaked as he was, somehow his eyes started to droop. Harry fought to stay awake, but eventually tiredness overtook him, and he fell asleep.

Harry never noticed that a mere few meters from the tree he was currently dozing in, two red eyes had been glowing sinisterly from the ground, a glint in them that promised trouble and pain. They had followed him as soon as he had entered the forest.

"I have fffffffound you, Potterrrr," something hissed quietly, so quietly that it was almost as if it was just the wind blowing through the trees.

* * *

**A/N: **And that is the end of chapter one! I had originally intended it to end differently, with a bigger cliffhanger, but this is how it went :)

Please spare a moment to leave reviews! How is my writing style? Does everything make sense? Is the grammar okay? Who do you think the mysterious something is?

Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!

_Stay tuned for the next chapter, lovelies._


	2. Chapter 2

**2: Bitten**

Harry slowly regained consciousness as his body shivered spastically, realising that it was freezing cold. He frowned with his eyes closed, and reached a hand over his legs to bring the duvet over his shivering frame. He realised slowly that his bed was suddenly really uncomfortable, and did not feel like a bed at all. He could not find the duvet, either.

His eyes snapped open in sudden comprehension, "Shit!" he exclaimed. He sat up sharply, looking around wildly in panic, and almost fell out of the tree. He grabbed the trunk for support, and steadied himself. His brain registered that it was still night time.

He sighed in annoyance at himself, 'well done, Harry. Bloody brilliant. How you've survived Voldemort all these years, I do not understand.'

Making a face, he stretched his now aching body, and examined the area. In the now complete darkness of night, he could not see much at all. 'It's lucky my bloody glasses didn't fall off... what a disaster that would've been,' he thought grimly.

Seeing that it was clear below, he began to descend from the tree. His body was stiff from sleeping on a branch, and it was a slow descent.

Finally, he put his foot on a branch near to the ground, and jumped off. He landed awkwardly, and fell backwards onto his behind. He closed his eyes and sat there for a moment, gathering himself.

"Dammit!" he said aloud. He stayed in his spot, glumly. 'What am I supposed to do now? I can't go back to the Dursleys, Vernon would probably...' Harry shook his head, hard. He did not want to think about that.

Harry floundered mentally. He could not go back to the Dursleys, and he did not want to sneak in either. Doing so meant there was a risk of getting caught by them, and he preferred freezing in an empty, non-abusive forest until daytime compared to even the thought of that.

His eyebrows frowned in thought. Where could he go? Maybe if he could make it to London, he could go to Gringotts, get some money out and spend the rest of his summer in the wizarding world, by himself!

He perked up a little, deciding that for now, this was the best plan of action. Now he just had to make it to London. And before that, he would have to get out of this forest.

A harsh wind suddenly ripped through the forest and howled at Harry as he scrambled up from his fallen position. He quickly sat himself against the big trunk of the tree he had unwittingly used as his bed, trying to shield himself from the biting wind.

He put his arms around himself, and head down, trying to conserve any warmth he had left.

'This was the worst day to escape,' he thought to himself. Indeed, Harry's body was shivering all over, and it did not help that his clothes were soaked through in rain and cold. He was not feeling at all up to scratch – his face was hurting all over from the cold, his back ached endlessly, and his throat was sore. 'And now I've also gone and got a cold. Excellent work, Potter,' his thoughts, irritatingly, sounded a lot like Snape's voice. 'At least it isn't raining anymore.'

It was still thundering though. Harry jumped as a white flash and a deafening rumble suddenly illuminated the area around him. His heart raced.

He sat, annoyed at the weather and himself, not knowing what to do. Another blinding flash, and an even louder rumble. Harry hugged himself tighter.

The hustle and bustle of the forest reached his ears through the wind. Bushes were rustling. Animals were crying out. Twigs were snapping.

Wait a minute. Twigs were snapping. Near him. Loudly.

Harry's head jolted upwards and he stared at the area in front of him. Lightening flashed again, and for a second, it was like daylight.

Harry felt his blood stop in his veins. He could not see anything in the darkness, but in that one second of light, he could have sworn that he had seen a grey, bloodied paw not a few meters from him.

He felt paralysed. He could not move. He could not breathe. Had he really seen what he thought he had seen? Or was the darkness and his eyes playing tricks on him?

Another twig snapped. This time, he heard a low growl carried across the wind. Adrenaline surged; he jumped up, and without looking back, Harry practically flew into the thick, unknown part of the forest as if his life depended on it. And it felt like it did.

The thunder rumbled harder, and soon, rain followed. It felt like a storm was beginning to rage, both in the weather and in Harry's mind and body.

He ran and ran, not caring where he was going, trying to get away; from what, he was not sure, and did not want to find out. Thin tree branches whipped painfully against his face and arms and legs, and the increasing rain started to blur his vision.

As Harry sprinted, he felt that he could hear something running behind him, not far, but not near either. In the tired and cold state his body was, he slowed quickly, though he was trying so hard to run faster. Still, strangely, he was not attacked from behind.

He did not stop, however; he did not believe his mind was playing tricks on him. There was definitely something chasing him.

Lightening flashed, thunder boomed; Harry tripped. His glasses shot off his face.

He landed with a splat, face first into the muddy ground of the dense, unforgiving forest. He pushed himself up, but his struggle to get up as quickly as he could was cut short. His body non-moving, he squinted at the ground in front of him. His eyes widened, and his pupils dilated with fear. Two grey clawed paws were standing just in front of him. If you could call them paws – they looked close to human feet, and what emphasised the humanistic feel was the fact that, whatever this animal was, it was standing on its hind legs... 'A werewolf' Harry's mind whispered in shocking recognition.

Harry reluctantly looked up. His blurry vision only revealed a looming grey shape, and two glowing red eyes. He felt lucky that he could not see properly, to avoid the truly terrifying vision standing in front of him.

"Harry Potterrrrr," it hissed, gleefully.

Harry shivered, and not from the cold. "Who... who are you? What do y-you want from me?" he stammered, teeth chattering in fear.

"Your blood," it growled, quietly. Harry's breath hitched, and he immediately tried to sit up. The shape moved swiftly and suddenly, as if it were a ghost. Its clawed paws pushed Harry roughly, causing him to fall backwards and become trapped under the weight of the werewolf. Its sharp claws buried into Harry's shoulders, and he choked in sudden, delirious pain.

The wolf growled, "you are yet to find out the meaning of pain, Boy," it sounded darkly amused.

Harry tried to free himself from the clutches of the creature, but every movement was hellish pain. He felt breathless.

"Get off me!" he tried to yell, but it came out more of a whisper. He started kicking his legs anywhere he could. He hit a soft spot, and the wolf suddenly grunted in pain and doubled backwards, taking his claws with him. Ignoring the increased pain in his shoulders, and the wine red blood now seeping through his clothes, Harry saw his chance. He scrambled backwards and stood shakily, trying to run away while he was not yet upright. The wolf recovered quickly however; Harry had not yet taken three strides when it clawed at him from behind, dragging its claws through the skin on his back, as if it were butter.

Harry screamed in agony, and stumbled slightly. It was enough for the wolf to catch up completely. It kicked at Harry's legs, tripping him up harshly. Harry landed hard. He coughed, winded, and tried to move into the foetal position.

The wolf grabbed his arm, and flipped him over with so much strength that Harry felt his shoulder dislocate. The dark-haired boy screamed again, feeling dizzy with pain. He was struggling to breathe. The grey werewolf sat on its haunches, apparently pleased that Harry was in no state to escape again.

"Please make this easier by not running. I do not want to hurt you too much; you are not to die," Harry heard through the haze of pain and sudden tiredness that overwhelmed him.

His eyes were open, but they were unseeing. He was concentrating on staying conscious, trying to desperately conceive an escape, knowing it was futile.

The wolf put his grinning snout in Harry's face. Even without glasses, and with the creeping darkness of unconsciousness around his vision, Harry could see the sharp, still blood-covered yellow teeth in front of him.

'Poor squirrel didn't stand a chance,' he thought vaguely, remembering the poor animal's misfortune from earlier.

Harry lay brokenly, "what... what are you going to do to m-me...?" he struggled to ask. His voice came out as a weak whisper.

He heard a low, sinister laugh that sounded more like a menacing growl. "Why tell you, when I can just show you?"

Thunder boomed overhead. The werewolf poised to strike. In one swift movement, he lunged towards Harry, and crunched his pointed, yellowed teeth around his neck. Harry's mouth opened to scream, but he could not. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his world went black.

* * *

**A/N: **And here is chapter two! Hope you all enjoy reading it :) I will be taking a break over the weekend to write more chapters, and will be uploading again at the beginning of next week.

_Thanks for the reviews so far!_

miniroll love x


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Sorry for the slight delay, I celebrated my 21st birthday this weekend and it was quite a busy few days! It feels strange to be labelled an "adult" now, I certainly do not act like it! Haha.

Thank you to all who reviewed! It's great motivation to know that you all enjoy my story so far :)

To _Floyd In The Sky_, I hope I do not disappoint! Thank you for the compliments on my writing, it really is awesome to get positive feedback :)

Also to _SevLoverKat: _Happy belated birthday! I hope you had a good time :D

**2: The Crow and The Wolf**

Albus Dumbledore gazed onto the unmoving, bloody and broken body in front of him in shock. He felt his eyes burn, the feeling alien, as they had not done so in a very long time.

"A werewolf bite?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Madame Pomfrey had appeared instantaneously at Severus' panicked call. She had never seen him show so much emotion before. She was currently patching the Boy-Who-Lived up, after having run her checks.

'Harry, my boy, will you ever be able to forgive me?' He thought, sure of the answer.

He had never felt at such a loss. He was sure that his ignorance of Harry, and his commands to his friends to keep contact to an absolute minimum was a mistake. In fact, in hindsight, it was one of his more idiotic decisions.

"A werewolf bite," he said again, softly.

Severus, stood painfully still next to Dumbledore, spoke, "The Dark Lord had not informed me of such a plan," he began, "Greyback brought Potter to my wards this morning, and from what he told me, _he _is using this occasion to... allow me to prove my loyalty," Severus growled the last bit out.

He had not known that the Dark Lord had been suspecting him. As such, Voldemort had not informed him of the plan to infect Potter, and here they were. Dumbledore was a wreck, and Potter was a werewolf.

* * *

Harry's mind sped up from slumber into a barely conscious state. He was first aware that he was in an extremely comfortable bed. It felt like his body was being swallowed by the warm mattress, not uncomfortably.

He could not really feel his body very much, however. He knew there was something important going on, something that had just happened and he knew it should have affected his body in some way, but he was just _so _comfortable. His mind was too hazy, and he gave up trying to remember before he had even begun.

A vague murmuring reached his ears, but he could not tell if it was in his head, or if there were people with him. Wherever he was.

He felt woozy, even though his eyes were closed. It felt like he was falling, and he tried to groan in protest. He found that he could not, however, as trying to open his mouth felt like he was lifting a two tonne brick. All that escaped him was a minute sigh.

"...Potter?" He thought he heard someone call his name, but the voice sounded far away and very faint. It had sounded familiar, though.

Harry did not try to move, as he realised if he could barely speak then there was no way that he could move. 'Who put bricks in my mouth anyway?' he thought slowly, slightly irritated.

He lay there with his eyes closed, not quite conscious and not quite passed out. The soft murmuring carried on, eventually lulling him to sleep once again.

* * *

Severus Snape stared at the dark-haired boy in the bed, who had fallen still again in slumber. There was a soft, sad sigh from next to him

"Severus, you must take care of him as best you can."

Severus' lips thinned, "Dammit, Albus. I have just told you the reasons I cannot-"

"Please, Severus, for me..." Dumbledore interrupted, "I have failed Harry once too many times, I fear. It was ignorant and short-sighted of me to put him with the Dursleys again. The Weasleys and Miss Granger told me time and time again that their treatment was not... up to standard, but I never realised it would ever become so bad that Harry would run away." Dumbledore's usual starry eyes were glum and cold.

Severus heaved a breath; he had never seen his mentor appear so old and frail. He did not want to have to look after the scarred brat.

'Although, it seems you have judged him wrongly... quite wrongly, infact,' his mind said. He shushed his brain, not willing to explore those thoughts yet.

"He will need someone... his friends around him if he is to cope with his... new condition," Severus said, quietly, "I cannot provide that." He knew it was the truth, but he also knew that he had already submitted to Dumbledore's request. The old man had never seemed so defeated before, and it was so bad that Severus just wanted Dumbledore to go back to his annoyingly happy, _normal_ ways, if anyone could believe that.

Dumbledore turned to look at the tall man, "I am sure things will work out," he said mysteriously, with a smile in his voice. Severus met his eyes. Sure enough, they were twinkling again.

He turned away and shook his head, resigned. "I suppose he cannot be moved anyway. As you said, either physical or magical movement may damage him further. Poppy should need only a few more visits to assess the extent of the injury done."

Dumbledore nodded. "When he wakes, please inform me. I wish to... apologize to Harry." The twinkle disappeared again.

"Yes, Albus."

* * *

Harry knew he was dreaming. He felt floaty, and not all there. He opened his eyes. A barren, yellow landscape surrounded him. It felt like it should have been scorchingly hot, but Harry felt no heat. There were small winds blowing across the land, and dust rose with it, creating a hazy effect.

Suddenly, a loud, angry caw sounded behind Harry. He turned in time to see a black shape fly past his head, a wing flapping and hitting his nose. He batted at the air, and jolted backwards in shock.

'Just a crow,' he realised, looking up at the black shape.

Harry had barely relaxed when the crow was diving at him again. He did not move in time, and the crow's claws caught him in the shoulder. It stung him.

Harry panicked, and started running away from the attacking crow. Or trying to, anyway. As Harry had experienced before in his dreams, his legs would not move fast enough, and it felt as if he were trying to run through water.

Up ahead he could see a dry forest that had definitely not been there before. He pushed himself to run towards it, but his legs ran no faster. Irritation and fear was building up inside him, and he felt himself begin to sweat.

He suddenly realised that he was heading towards a swarm of black crows that were cawing and flapping their wings loudly around something on the ground. He wanted to stop, but his legs still would not listening. Instead they sped up.

As he got closer, he could see a small, white animal in the middle of the crows' torment. Harry narrowed his brows, not sure what it was, but sure he would save it from the bullying crows.

He braced himself, and jumped straight into the circle of crows. Light seemed to immediately disappear, and Harry saw that there seemed to be more crows now that he was in the eye of the black storm. Indeed, there was not a trace of the outer landscape through the flurry of crows, and he was surrounded by furious and loud caws that rattled his mind.

Suddenly, a small whine got his attention, and his eyes shot to the ground. A small white wolf, not yet an adult, was lying prone, injured from the vicious attacks. Its somewhat familiar green eyes were staring at him, wary.

Harry snapped to attention, and slowly picked up the wolf. As soon as he had touched the wolf, the crows that had been slowly circulating around Harry, began to swoop and dive towards him. His cradled the wolf to his chest, and started running again. He broke through the black circle, feeling the pecks and scratches of the crows on his body.

The landscape had changed again. He was in a thick, bushy forest that seemed more like a maze. Wide and dauntingly tall trees surrounded him everywhere, so wide that he could not see anything through them. They formed a vague path. Harry followed it slowly, now that the crows had disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared.

He walked for what seemed a very long time, not knowing where he was going. He felt lost. What was he supposed to do now?

He looked at the wolf in his arms, whose shocking green eyes were still staring at him with apprehension. He wondered why, when a fork in the path abruptly appeared. He stopped. The path to the left lead to what could have been paradise. He squinted out of habit, rather than the need to see, and saw a sandy golden beach that ended in the bluest of blue seas. There was a small, wooden building he could also see. A house that Harry could live in, where he would be left in peace by the world.

Down the right side, the maze continued, but the crows were there. A bigger, more vicious-looking crow with intelligent eyes was watching him, perched on a small branch on the right-sided path.

'Leave the wolf. Choose the other, easier path,' it said persuasively. The words seemed to appear in Harry's head, rather than be spoken aloud.

Harry cocked his head, "And what does your path entail?"

'Death, betrayal, love, family, happiness, sadness, pain,' the crow stared hard, 'it will be much easier for you to choose the other path. Give us the wolf. Save yourself.'

Harry had already known his decision, instantly realising the difference between the two paths. He looked at the wolf again, who had been silent the entire time. Its eyes looked at him, questioningly. He could see loneliness and anger in the wolf's eyes, and something deep and dark inside, that would consume it if it were to be rejected. "I will not leave you," Harry promised. He saw relief, love, happiness flood the wolf's eyes, and he felt love in return for the small, vulnerable babe. He would protect it.

The left path, full of promised happiness and loneliness, started to disappear. The dark-haired boy said to the black crow, "As long as I have breath in my body, I will protect the wolf from your evil, even if you throw pain, sadness and betrayal at me."

He took a deep breath, straightened up and stepped onto the crows' path. The large crow squawked horrifically, calling the other crows' to attention. Harry bent over the wolf to shield it, and began to run as blackness descended upon him.

* * *

Severus finished pouring the calming draught down Harry's throat. He made sure that the boy swallowed.

He sat back in the chair next to the bed, and sighed. The small figure had started convulsing not five minutes after he had fallen asleep again. It had taken his and the headmaster's power to still him so that he would not aggravate his wounds, or cause any more damage.

Severus glanced over the bed in Dumbledore's direction. The old, bearded man was hunched over in his chair, hand over his eyes.

Severus turned away and sighed again. He almost felt sorry for Potter, but the boy had willingly run away from his protection. Surely he could have survived a bit of strong talk from his relatives. 'He has always been stupid and reckless, this is obviously his own fault. Probably his relatives had asked him to help out around the house, and he had acted the diva.'

Severus ignored the small voice in his mind that hissed otherwise.

* * *

**A/N: **And that's the end of chapter three! I enjoyed researching for the dream scene, it has a fair amount of symbolism in it, and I am considering explaining it if anyone is intrigued by its meaning.

It will not spoil the story, but I may not post it until a couple more chapters have been posted.

I eat reviews for breakfast, so please spare a minute to leave me one :)

_miniroll love x_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Okay, huge, HUGE apologies for the ridiculous delay in getting chapter four out. I hope none of you have unfollowed the story thinking this is how it is going to be all the way through - my only excuse is that I have moved back into my uni flat, and uni has also just started so I am a bit all over the place with getting things done.

Sorry again for the huge delay, I also had a bit of a block with this chapter as I realised I found it difficult to not make something wild and crazy happen in every chapter, and actually write some developmental stuff! But I hope you all enjoy, and thanks to all who left lovely reviews!

To _Floyd In The Sky_: Sorry about the shortness, I'll be trying from now to keep the chapters much longer :) I can't wait to see Draco either! I'm really excited about writing his character ha :) Hugs to you too!

To _GalynSolo_: Thank you for taking the leap! I'm honoured that my fic has interested you :) I have not read many Harry as a werewolf stories either (actually, thinking about it, I don't think I've read any!) but the idea just kind of came to me.

On with the show...

**3: In The House Of The Serpent**

"Three broken ribs, two cracked; a punctured lung; dislocated shoulder; infected lacerations on the back and shoulders, and finally, a werewolf bite. All have healed fully, but scars will remain from the infections and the bite." Madame Pomfrey sighed and dropped her notes to one side.

"He will awaken soon, Severus," she said softly, "please be gentle, anyone in this situation would suffer mental and physical ramifications once they realised what had happened to them, and Mr. Potter has already had so much happen to him..." she trailed off. 'Poor child,' she thought with a slight hint of despair.

Severus' blank, cold expression did not change. "I have said it before, and I will say it again, Poppy; if Potter was stupid enough to ignore Dumbledore's instructions and willingly put himself in danger, then it is his own fault. There will be no pity from me," the potions master said sharply.

Madame Pomfrey sighed again, and decided that she would make her visits quite regular once the sleeping boy awakened.

Ignoring Severus' last comment, Madame Pomfrey began to collect her things. "As I said, he will awaken soon. If it does not trouble you too much," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice, "please inform me as soon as you can." Her tone gave no room for argument.

"I will."

"Goodbye, Severus."

"Goodbye."

And with that, Madame Pomfrey flooed out of Severus' Manor for the third time that week. A few minutes went by, but Severus stood in the same place, pondering as he looked over Harry's slowly breathing form.

"Well, Potter. It seems you have, yet again, found a way to make my life living hell. Congratulations," Severus sneered. 'Stupid brat,' he thought to himself, 'does he ever think about anyone but himself?'

"Hortensius!" Severus spat out. The dark-haired boy, even though he was unconscious, still managed to work him up into a bad mood.

With a loud crack, a small brown lump appeared at Severus' feet. If a chubby, jolly house elf could exist, it would be Hortensius. The stout house elf (stout, even for a house elf!) hid a round belly underneath a fairly well-kept black jumper that reached down to his knobbly knees. Large, amethyst eyes looked up at his master, "yes, Master?" he spoke smoothly.

"Potter will be waking soon. As soon as he does, or makes any sign of waking, you are to immediately alert me. Is that understood?" Severus glared down at the house elf, but Hortensius was too used to his master's up and down moods to notice. Of course, his master never really showed anyone his "up" moods, and really, only his house elves were privy to the Potions Master's real emotions.

"Yes, Master, Hortensius understands."

"Good." With that, Severus swiveled on the spot and stalked away. His robes thrashed around behind him, in a recognisable style that would always and forever scream "Severus Snape".

* * *

Harry woke with a start. His breaths were coming in short, sharp breaths. He had dreamt about a white dog... maybe a wolf? And there were some vicious crows. He felt like he could feel their sharp beaks on his skin. He moved to sit up, and was immediately greeted with a pounding headache, and lots of pain.

He groaned loudly, "ouch."

Slowly, he sat up against the headboard. He was lying in a gorgeous room, in an equally gorgeous, and soft, double bed. Harry did not know where he was, but if this was hell, he did not want to leave.

A loud crack sounded, causing Harry to almost jump out of his skin. "Potter is awake," a soft voice said, coming from his right. His gaze shot towards the floor. He saw a curiously well-dressed house elf, with humongous light purple eyes.

Harry squinted, "who are you? Where am I?" His voice came out raspy, as if he had not used it in a while.

"Name is Hortensius. You are in my Master's house." The house elf spoke softly, almost sweetly.

"You speak quite well for a house elf," Harry whispered, not quite fully awake yet.

The house elf grinned at him, obviously happy at the compliment, "Master... I means, my master likes it when we speak well," he bounced a little in his spot next to Harry's bed, his eyes just coming up past the top of the mattress. It made Harry giggle slightly.

"And... who is your Master?" He asked next, tentatively, as he was not sure he wanted to know.

"Master is Severus Snape, Potio-"

"Snape!?" Harry yelled in shock, or tried to anyway. His voice came out as a raspy and squeaky whisper as it broke.

Hortensius looked at him disapprovingly, and was about to speak when, "Yes, Potter. Problem?" came from the doorway. Harry immediately tried to push himself further into the bed; he was sure he could feel his life leaving him slowly under the current glare the potions master was directing towards him. 'This really is hell.'

Severus strode into the room, and stopped by Harry's bedside, next to Hortensius. "Thank you, Hortensius. You may go. Have lunch prepared in fifteen minutes."

Hortensius bowed, and left the room with another loud crack. Harry grimaced as the noise ripped through his aching head.

"Well, Potter, it seems as if you've landed yourself in trouble, _again._" Severus raised an eyebrow. Harry bowed his head, not wanting to speak or look at the frightening man. Why was he here?

"Well? Cat got your tongue? Have you lost the ability to speak as well as think?" Severus said, snidely.

Harry pursed his lips, his professor seemed to be on top form today. "Why am I here?" he whispered.

"I cannot hear you when you mumble into your hands, Potter. Look at me when you speak to me."

Harry breathed out, and looked up into the black eyes, "I said, why am I here, sir."

"What do you remember, boy?"

Harry's eyebrows drew together as he tried to remember. "Um... Dudley was chasin- er, I mean I was in a forest and got lost. I er... fell asleep, and then when I woke, there... there was something with me." Harry stuttered as blurry images of a tall, clawed monster flashed through his mind. "I was attacked, and there was a lot of pain... I can't remember much else. How... how did I get here?"

Severus ignored his question, and quietly said, "you were in a forest... and you fell asleep?" He could barely contain his anger. This... _stupid boy_, was supposed to save them all, and yet, here he was wandering into forests and _falling asleep_ when there were countless dark wizards, including the darkest, most vicious wizard of their time, after his blood. Severus felt like breaking something.

Harry swallowed nervously, and turned his face away from the anger; without telling Snape the true story, it seemed like he had just left the protection of the Dursleys' and had casually walked into a forest, gotten lost and fallen asleep like some blundering idiot. Over his dead body, though, would he ever tell Snape the true reasons to how he had ended up in the forest. 'As if he would believe me, anyway.'

Severus suddenly leaned in, grabbed Harry by the chin and forced him to look into his eyes. Harry flinched and made a garbled sound, panic written all over his face. "Listen to me, Potter. You do not deserve anything good in life. You do not deserve friends. You do not deserve your fame. I cannot believe that an utter imbecile such as yourself could ever hope to hold even the tiniest of chances against the Dark Lord. You disgust me. It seems life has already decided that you do not deserve a family," Severus hissed furiously, anger overtaking reason and logic.

Harry felt like a stake had been put through his heart at that last comment. He did not react, however; he was used to those words - "you do not deserve...". 'Been living with the Dursleys for more than fifteen years, haven't I?' he thought, sarcastically.

"Yes sir," he said, automatically.

Severus was slightly taken aback, and released his grip in shock. Harry bowed his head again. Severus was not used to this submissive boy who suddenly seemed so vulnerable. He felt a jolt go through his heart, feeling like he regretted his last comment. He mentally shook himself, and straightened up. "Well, now that we have established that you are a moron with no hope of survival, you need to eat. You have been in a healing sleep for eight days, and need to regain your strength."

Severus studied the boy further; he had not reacted to his last insult at all, and simply sat with his head bowed. "Potter!" he barked, "Are you listening?" The boys head lurched upwards, and blank green eyes met Severus' onyx ones. "Yes, sir."

"There are some clothes for you in that wardrobe," he pointed at a large floor-to-ceiling mirror that had a handle on it. "Once you are ready, call for Hortensius and he will lead you to the dining room where you will eat."

The black-haired man stalked towards the door, "do not take forever, Potter," he said pointedly, as he walked out. A faint, "yes, sir" followed him through the door.

Severus noticed that Harry's voice sounded completely blank, and remembered also that the boy's usually vibrant and mischievous green eyes had looked empty; they looked almost... dead. Severus felt strange chills course through his spine at that thought before he almost immediately shook himself. 'You're getting soft in your old age, man. Do not forget how much danger the boy has stupidly put himself, and the rest of us, in,' he told himself. With one last mental shake, he set off in long strides towards the dining room for lunch.

* * *

Harry stared blankly at the doorway that his professor had just vacated. His mind was quiet, and he felt calm. Too calm. It was almost as if he had suddenly been placed in an emotionless bubble where nothing could get to him. Words bounced off his bubble, thoughts were prevented from entering. Harry sat in his bubble for a good few minutes, before he softly and slowly landed back on Earth.

Harry suddenly registered that Snape was waiting for him, if he was not already. He had no idea how long he had been lost in his mental black hole, and he started to panic. 'Shit! Why do I always get myself into these situations?' He thought to himself as he threw back the covers and jumped out of bed.

He attempted to anyway. He swayed dangerously on the spot as dizziness overtook him, and had to sit back down on the bed to calm himself. He closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the nauseating feeling to subside.

A minute later, Harry opened his eyes again and let out a deep breath, standing up slowly this time. He may have been healed, but obviously he was not fully recovered.

He eyed the room up quickly, not having paid any attention before. For Snape's quarters, it was decidedly un-Snape-like.

The walls were a warm cream colour, and the floor was made of a light wood. Harry noticed happily that the wood was nicely warm under his bare toes. The wardrobe Snape had shown Harry was made of a darker wood, which contrasted nicely with the floor and the walls. Harry walked towards it now, and opened it. One pair of black trousers and one black shirt were hanged in there, and Harry raised an eyebrow. 'Ah, there's the Snape I know.'

He got changed, and looked at himself in the ornate mirror that was hanging on the wall next to the wardrobe. The clothes fit perfectly on Harry's small frame. The material of the trousers was soft as a bunny rabbit, and it felt like silk, but not quite as flimsy. The shirt was a typical black, collared shirt, but again the fabric felt deliciously soft against Harry's skin.

Surprised, Harry thought he had never looked better. He had never worn such nice-feeling clothes either.

"My, my, don't you look scrumptious!"

Harry stumbled backwards in fright, shocked by the sudden female voice. He looked around wildly, but there was no one there. "What the…?" He mumbled.

"Over here, boy." The voice came from in front of him. With a jolt, Harry realised it was the mirror talking to him. He looked to the top of the mirror, and saw a frowning face set into the golden frame of the mirror.

Harry looked on in quiet amusement, 'it's like I'm in some sort of Disney film,' he thought to himself.

"Stop gawking, child. Have you never seen a talking mirror before?" The mirror appeared to sigh, before continuing its tirade, "No matter, what kind of hairstyle do you call that!? Sort that out at once, young man!"

Harry bristled slightly, "It's always been like this, and I can't seem to change it. When my a-aunt…" a lump formed in Harry's throat at the thought of his relatives, but he quickly quashed the rising feelings before they could get the better of him.

He cleared his throat, "Er… someone tried to cut it a few times. It just grows back overnight."

The face of the mirror raised a golden eyebrow, "well, that sounds like the definition of stubborn. No matter, I have a simple solution for that." The mirror screwed up its face in concentration, and all of a sudden, Harry felt a chill spread around the top of his head, as if someone had dropped a very cold water bomb on him. His eyes widened at the feeling, but it was gone as rapidly as it had appeared.

"There, that's better," the mirror said. Harry stared into the mirror, not believing his eyes. His hair actually looked okay… _good _even_. _Whatever the mirror had done, his hair had calmed down. Now that it was not flying in every single direction possible at the same time, it reached past his ears, and almost to his shoulders. "It's a bit girly…" he mumbled, ruffling it about so it looked a bit less neat.

"We'll deal with that later. Should you not be getting to lunch, young one?" The mirror replied.

Harry's eyes widened, he'd forgotten he was probably late.

"Err… Hortensius?" He called out, voice still slightly raspy. Immediately, the round house elf appeared with a crack with reverberated through Harry's still aching head.

"Is Potter ready for lunch?" Hortensius asked.

Harry nodded, "Er, yes. Please take me to the dining room?"

"Of courses, follow me please." The house elf started to waddle away from Harry, and Harry looked on amusedly.

Hortensius disappeared around the corner, and Harry stumbled into action. He caught up with the waddling house elf who was moving faster than Harry thought possible for a creature so short and round.

Following Hortensius towards the man he felt was going to be the death of him, he sighed, and shook his head.

'Honestly, how the bloody hell do I get myself into this situations?'

* * *

**A/N: **This seemed so much longer in Word! Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Was it a little slow? I don't want every chapter to be all action and no progression, but what did you think?

Also, to those who want my explanation of the dream sequence, I will be putting it up soon, perhaps next chapter, so keep your eyes peeled :) I've also got some possible art pieces that I'll be uploading throughout this story. I like using visual aids, so I might as well put them online for you guys aswell!

Thanks for reading! I promise to have chapter five up by this weekend!

miniroll love xxx


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I am so aware that I did not upload anything over the weekend, as I promised. However, I hope you will all forgive me as I have uploaded this extra long chapter that I have spent all day on :) I have now begun to plan out the detail of the story, and made a small timeline to help me. These have both helped greatly and I feel better about writing the next few chapters, as I had felt a bit lost before.

As always, thank you for the reviews!

To _Lupinesence_: Thank you, and poor Harry, indeed! I can tell you that Lupin will definitely be in this fic as he is one of my favourites too, but you will have to read on to see if he is one of the "goodies" :)

To _Floyd In The Sky_: My, my, you're becoming a regular :) Thank you so much! I'm impatient to see Harry heal, I can't wait to start writing about the good things! I'm especially excited about writing Draco in :) I hope this chapter answers some of your questions!

To _NeverAsItSeems_: Hey! Thank you so much for your interest :) Hope you enjoy it!

And now, on with the show!

**5: Panic**

Severus sat with his hands in his lap, fighting the urge to start tapping a foot. He stared at the doorway with impatient eyes, waiting for Harry to make an appearance.

With a sharp wave of his wand, he quickly checked the time. 'It's been fifteen minutes... what _is_ the brat doing?'

He had just about made his mind up to go search for Harry and give him a good reprimanding, when he heard brisk footsteps coming from the doorway.

Harry was breathing heavily as he strode into the room, as if he had run all the way. Severus raised an elegant eyebrow, "why, Mr. Potter, thank you so much for finally gracing me with your presence."

Harry grimaced, "sorry, sir. The mirror started talking to me." Severus sneered, and looked over Harry's new look. He grudgingly thought to himself that the boy looked a bit more presentable.

"I see. Well, I assume that is why that wild bush you used to call your hair has finally calmed down. Now, sit down, and eat."

"Yes, sir." Harry suddenly noticed all the food on the dining table. He had imagined that Snape would have had one of those long, elegant dining rooms that seemed more like a hall, rather than a room. He had imagined that the table would have stretched from one end of the room to another, the seats so far away that they would have had trouble seeing each other, let alone talk to each other. Harry was surprised; the table was just a generic table that could seat six people and no more. It was a dark brown wooden table, and was covered in what Harry thought was ridiculous amount of food for lunch. There were bowls of delicious-looking pasta salads, neatly-cut triangles of sandwiches and plates of things Harry did not recognise. The dining room was small compared to his mind's vision, and he would have described it as cosy, had he not been very aware that he was in _Snape's _manor.

He sat down slowly, at a chair opposite to the surly Potions Master. He was still drinking in the sight of all the food, completely at a loss. He had no idea where to start.

Harry glanced at the Potions Master, who was piling food on to his plate. He nervously picked up the spoon of the pasta bowl, and put a small amount on his plate. He was not used to all this food, especially since he had just been living at the Dursleys'. He had gotten used to going without lunch.

He began to eat, eyes going wide at the rich, creamy flavour of the pasta. A flavour he had not experienced since Hogwarts. Usually, it was just the barest of sandwiches – just bread and cheese – that he had been allowed, and then, only for dinner. After the first time he had fainted from exhaustion and hunger, the Dursleys had allowed him to eat small things while he was not locked in his room, so that he would be able to do his chores. Merlin forbid that they lift even the smallest finger to give him some food, Harry would not want them to injure themselves.

Now, his taste buds were going mental from the gorgeous, sweet flavour of the pasta and the savoury chicken. Harry was enjoying himself immensely, when Severus spoke again.

"Potter, I will not be happy if I have to force-feed you. Get more food on your plate."

Harry, almost delirious from the juicy, delectable pasta, replied without thinking, "sorry, sir. I was never given lunch at the Dursleys'"

And then, silence. Harry could literally feel his face drain of blood. He had _not_ meant to reveal that. He kept his head bowed, refusing to meet the eyes of the now silent professor.

On the other side of the table, Severus was at a loss. He had watched Potter put the tiniest amount of food on his place, and had watched his face almost explode in joy at the first taste of Severus' favourite chicken pasta. He had been confused at this, but crushed the feelings to tell the boy off, sure there was a simple explanation.

His response had been unexpected, but Severus' mind worked quickly after the initial hesitation. Obviously, the boy meant that he had been too lazy to make his own lunch at home, and his relatives had refused to make it for him everyday. Perhaps his relatives were not suck-ups, after all.

Severus' eye twitched a little. "Potter, your laziness astounds me. Actually, no it does not. I always knew you were a lazy brat. Let me make one thing clear. I am not your relatives. I will not stand for laziness, and pertinence. In my house, you will do what I say. That includes eating," Severus said, sharply.

Harry had to bite his lip to avoid smiling in relief. He would let his professor think whatever he wanted, as long as it was not the truth. Harry knew that if Snape got hold of the reality of the situation, his taunting and hatred of Harry would increase ten-fold. After all, who would be able to stand the sight of the apparent "Chosen One", after they found out that he was letting himself be used and abused, like a lowly, unappreciated house-elf, by Muggles?

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." Harry said quietly, and proceeded to put a couple more spoonfuls of pasta on his plate. He could deal with being required to eat more.

Severus stared on, a strange feeling sitting in his chest. He was satisfied with the amount of food Harry now had on his plate, but the way the boy was interacting with him did not sit right. This, quiet, almost docile boy was not the easily-angered, volatile Harry Potter he knew. The memory of the boy's eyes looking seemingly dead from earlier rose up, and the strange feeling intensified. Severus pushed the thoughts away – he seemed to be doing that a lot, lately – and went back to his food.

After a few moments of silence, Severus spoke up again.

"The Headmaster, and Madame Pomfrey will be here to see you after lunch. They will explain the mess you've gotten yourself into, and what will happen to you," Severus said.

"Will I be sent back to my relatives?" Harry enquired, hesitantly. He really did not want to go back.

"Of course not, imbecile! You are a werewolf now, idiot boy. You will either be relocated to Hogwarts, or you will have to... stay here," Severus bit out, with a sneer.

Harry, for the second time that morning, felt the blood drain out of his face, "a... a werewolf?!" He dropped his fork on the floor in shock. An intense feeling of terror draped its black cloak around Harry, and he began to hear a loud pounding in his head. He vaguely realised that it was his heart, racing as if there was no tomorrow. All of a sudden, he could not breath. He felt as if he were drowning. He held the table as his vision began to swim, but the table was slowly moving away from him. Or was he moving away from it? His vision began to blacken as he quickened his breathing, trying to get some oxygen in his lungs. It was no use. A voice was telling him to calm down, but he could not. Unconsciousness clamped down on him as he passed out, and began to fall to the floor.

* * *

Severus panicked slightly as he saw the boy sway in his seat, eyes unfocussed and breathing rapid. "Potter, calm down" he barked, as he stood. Suddenly, the boy began to slide off his seat. Severus rushed to the boy's side, and managed to just catch him as he fell out the seat.

The boy was still shaking in his arms, and Severus looked on in sudden concern. The boy had seemed to suffer from all the symptoms of an intense panic attack, at the information of his condition.

Severus pursed his lips as he carried the unconscious boy to his room. Dumbledore was not going to be happy with him when he arrived.

He reached the guest room Harry was staying in, and put the boy down on the bed slowly. He straightened up again, and sighed at the scrawny boy in front of him.

Severus was abruptly interrupted from thinking too hard about the boy by Hortensius' appearance in the room. "Mr. Dumbledore and Ms. Pomfrey is arrived, Master Severus."

"Please bring them to me, Hortensius," Severus was too distracted to correct Hortensius' grammar.

After several minutes, Dumbledore entered the room, Madame Pomfrey hot on his heels.

"Good morning, Severus," Albus chimed, "Where is young Harry... ah," he suddenly noticed the boy on the bed.

"I thought he had awoken, Severus?" Madame Pomfrey asked in confusion, "Has something happened?" She immediately brought out her wand to check him over.

Severus pursed his lips again, "he had a panic attack and passed out."

Madame Pomfrey stopped short, "a panic attack? What could have possibly caused that? Severus?" She stared at him accusingly, a niggling suspicion in her mind.

Severus sighed under her scrutiny, "I merely mentioned his current condition to him, and he... well, had a panic attack, as I said."

"Severus, the fact that he had a panic attack suggests to me that you did not just "merely" mention it. And I thought we'd discussed that you would wait til myself and Albus arrived to tell him?" she asked in a clipped tone.

Dumbledore suddenly interrupted, "Poppy, your diagnosis?" His tone was short and hard, not at all the usual soft and sparkling Dumbledore. Severus resisted the increasing urge to fidget nervously.

Madame Pomfrey waved her wand and cast several spells over Harry. He glowed a faint blue-green, "He is fine, plenty of food and rest is all he really needs, physically. However, as you both know, panic attacks are rare in wizards and witches due to our stronger mind structures, and only occur as a result of severe mental or physical stress. In many cases, it was physical and/or mental abuse that caused the attacks."

Severus knew especially well. His mind travelled backwards to his days as a newly-recruited Death Eater, when panic attacks were quite common-place due to the immense physical and mental stress and pain of serving under the Dark Lord. You were considered a real Death Eater once you got over the panic attacks; the quicker you got over them, the more respected you were. It was seen as a rite of passage everyone had to go through, once you had been marked. Severus was one of the only ones who had managed to get over the panic attacks within his first few weeks.

Severus returned to the present moment, and glanced at the unusually quiet Headmaster, who was contemplating the meaning of this new revelation.

Dumbledore's blue eyes were so icy that they seemed to radiate coldness. "I see." He stood still for a few moments, "Hmm... Of course... How did I not... But, perhaps... Yes..." the Headmaster mumbled to himself. "Severus!" He suddenly said, "you must go to the Dursleys' and collect Harry's things."

Severus spluttered indignantly, "surely I can send my house elf! Why must I go myself? I have things to attend-"

"No, Severus. You will do this for me. Perhaps it will open your eyes."

Severus wanted to fling an insulting retort at the Headmaster, but Dumbledore's still cold, almost angry eyes stopped him.

"Fine. I will go tomorrow."

"No, you will go now. I need you to do this, Severus. I will sit with Harry until he awakens, and explain things to him," his voice softened a bit.

Severus breathed heavily through his nose, 'that brat is messing up my summer.' "Yes, Headmaster."

* * *

Not fifteen minutes later, Severus Snape found himself standing outside number three, Privet Drive, dressed in Muggle clothing. He was wearing a black suit; luckily, he had had a Muggle suit put aside just in case of journeys, like this one, into the Muggle world.

He sighed as he looked around, having never been here before. The area was very well-kept, and obviously there were no poor people living here. He raised an eyebrow, 'of course, Potter probably does not even know the meaning of poverty.'

He sighed again, and walked up to the door of number three. Ringing the doorbell, he prepared himself to meet with the Dursleys. They were probably quite well-off considering the neighbourhood, and were perhaps arrogant, although Severus doubted they would be as arrogant as the Malfoys. He glanced at the neat, clean garden, 'well, at least they can keep a garden.'

All of a sudden, the front door opened, and Vernon Dursley's fat, red face appeared. He looked up and down at Severus, "Who the ruddy hell are you? We don't give money to charity, and we don't want to buy anything. Piss off!" He growled, slamming the door in Severus' face.

His eyebrows had almost disappeared into his hairline. These Muggles already were annoying him. He sighed, cautiously removed his wand from his pocket and spelled the door open. It opened quietly, and Severus stepped in, shutting it loudly behind him.

In the time Severus had taken to enter, Vernon had already disappeared. However, at the noise of the door, loud, heavy footsteps were heard. 'Or is it a mammoth?'

Vernon appeared in the corridor again, and at the sight of Severus, turned purple, "YOU! You're breaking and entering! Fuck off before I call the poli-" Suddenly, he caught sight of Severus' wand.

"You... you're one of them! What are you doing in my house? The boy's done a runner, you have no reason to be here! Get out, freak!" Vernon shouted, pointing at Severus.

Severus straightened to his full height; he did not like the tone that the fat Muggle was using with him. He smiled maliciously when the bulbous man took a step back.

"Mr. Dursley, I presume? I am indeed a wizard. I am one of Mr. Potter's professors at Hogwarts, and you will address me as such," he said loudly and pointedly.

A thin, horse-like woman came out of a side door, "Vernon, what's all the shouti-" she gasped as she spotted Severus.

"W... what do you want? The boy isn't here anymore, he ran away."

Severus raised an eyebrow, "and you did not think to inform us?" 'Stupid Muggles.'

Vernon's still purple face wobbled as he barked out a laugh, "what do we care for the boy? Can't you find him with your... _magic_?" he spat out.

Severus bristled, these Muggles were getting on his nerves. He tried again. "I am sure you will be pleased to know that we have found him, and he is safe."

"Well! You look like a decent man, I hope you have punished the freak severely for running away. That brat doesn't deserve niceties; we sheltered him for 15 years and he repays us by running away!" Petunia shrieked.

"That's right!" Vernon said, "the freak was useless at his chores, have you seen how messy our garden is!? There's been no one to take care of it since he ran away."

Severus almost choked on his own spit. "The... freak? Your garden?" he said, mind absorbing the sickening information being thrown at him. 'I don't believe it...'

"Yes, of course, the boy kept our garden for us, he was a good cleaner too..." Vernon suddenly realised that he may have revealed too much information, and swiftly changed the subject, "what do you want anyway? We don't want any of your kind in our house!"

Severus had to take a deep breath, crushing the urge to simply murder the Dursleys. 'Albus left Potter with these... people?' he thought, sickened.

Vernon and Petunia were still nattering on about "the freak" when Severus reached the end of his tether. "SILENCE!" he commanded in his best professor voice.

The Dursleys quietened immediately, in shock. Vernon did not completely get the idea, however, "Excuse me? How dare you tell_ me_ what to do in _my _house! You freaks think you're all better than us, _well_-" Severus brandished his wand, "Silencio," he said, plainly.

Vernon tried to yell some more, but instead gaped like a fish when he realised that he could not speak. Petunia shrieked, and in a shrill voice said, "oh! What have you done to him! Oh my poor Vernon!"

Severus re-thought his actions, and with another brisk _silencio, _Petunia was silenced as well.

"Listen to that... amazing isn't it? _Silence_," he hissed, glaring daggers at the two Muggles. "Now, pay attention!" He barked. "I am here for Potter's things. That is all. As soon as I collect his things, I will be out of your hair. If you hinder my progress in anyway, I will not hesitate to curse you."

At this announcement, Severus noted worryingly that Vernon's fearful face had transformed into a malicious smile. 'What kind of crazy Muggles are these?'

He sighed, and with a wave of his wand, he cancelled the silencing spell, wanting to get this over with. "You may speak. Lead me to Potter's things."

"We can't," Vernon said giddily, almost dancing on the spot.

Severus stared, 'is this purple Muggle suicidal...?' "And why not?" He bit out.

"Because we burnt them!" Vernon Dursley said with a maniacal grin on his face.

**A/N: **Oh, snap! Bad Dursleys! I've always hated them, they are such a disgusting family. Now, I get to write about them and I can do anything I want to them ;) What is Severus thinking? Is he going to take action against the Dursleys? Watch this space for the next chapter, and find out!

Please don't forget to leave a lovely review :) Criticisms appreciated!


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